


The Black Ferris

by HYPERFocused



Category: Smallville
Genre: Bradbury Title Challenge, F/M, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-19
Updated: 2002-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Bradbury title challenge (and my first fic). Pete's POV as he wishes for powers of persuasion. Pairings are implied, the kittens are safe for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Ferris

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
In his secret heart, Pete Ross wanted to be Ferris Bueller. When he was walking the halls of Smallville High, he imagined himself collecting high fives from the jocks, and admiring glances from the cheerleaders. He pictured the cool kids following his lead, and everyone, everyone hanging on his every word. Not that it would ever happen. He knew he was a secondary character in the strange life of Smallville circa 2002, despite anyone's protests to the contrary. He could barely get three sentences out before people turned away in boredom. He didn't think Principal Kwan would have even cared if he'd skipped school, except that the Smallville High black population would have been halved.   
He was nothing like the real Ferris. The real Ferris had people eating out of his hand. He'd jumped onto a parade float, and sang one of the dorkiest songs ever -- pretended he was Wayne Newton, for God's sake -- and only managed to look hipper. Pete, on the other hand, had blurted out "Remy Zero!" at a school dance, and people were still pointing at him and laughing, saying "hey Fanboy!". It wasn't the kind of attention he wanted.

Sometimes he imagined the three of them, Clark and Chloe and Pete, recreating that road trip into the city. It almost worked. Clark as Cameron -- both tall, and similarly awkward, though Clark seemed to be growing out of that, just like he was leaving everyone else behind. There was a similarity of character there. He could picture Clark feeling as alienated and depressed as Cameron, though he didn't really understand why. Or maybe didn't want to. He guessed it was hell being different in Smallville, and anyone who wanted to be with Lex Luthor the way Clark seemed to, was certainly different. Not that there was anything wrong with that in principle, but Lex was a whole fortress of Weird, and Pete just didn't get it. The truth was, the only vintage Porsches Clark was riding in were Lex's, and there was weirdness there even Chloe wouldn't want to get into.

Frankly, Pete was starting to get a little bit pissed about the whole thing. He and Clark used to have a hell of a lot of fun. Now it was like Clark wasn't all there. He walked the halls, head cocked to the side, like he was hearing things no one else could, or staring at the walls like he could see through them. Not that he was like that all the time, no. A flash of lavender, a glimpse of smirk, and Clark was all attention -- Pete and Chloe be damned.

He and Chloe had talked about it, after she and Clark had tried the dating thing.

'It's like he's doing it out of duty," she'd said. "You know, like he's always trying to do the right thing, and since I'm his friend, and he wants to make me happy..."

"You don't want to be his pity fuck." He understood that, sort of. Pete could think of plenty of women whose pity he'd be glad to accept. Halle Berry. Janet Jackson. The Smallville Crows Pom Pom squad ... he guessed it was different for girls.

"Well, no. I don't want to do that with someone who so obviously wants somebody else. Even worse that it isn't Lana anymore. I mean, I could understand that. It made a lot of sense, a guy's supposed to lust after the head cheerleader. But I can see the idea getting old for Clark. She's almost too pretty to be threatening. Not to mention vapid."

"Yeah, I know. She's hot, and all that, but who'd really want to talk to her. Better she keeps her mouth full than jabber on about her dead parents again."

"And I suppose you'd like to be the one to occupy her mouth?" Chloe shot him a look that managed to be both wry and lascivious.

"Hahaha," Pete said, punching her lightly on the shoulder, and managing not to let his hands stray. He didn't tell her that it was her own mouth he imagined most of the time, wide and warm and accepting. Not that he thought he had a shot, really, even if she did seem to be giving up on her Clark fixation. There was still The Torch holding her attention. Sometimes Pete thought they'd be most likely to hook up sometime after graduation.

"And then there's the whole Lex thing. I'm just waiting for Clark to own up about it, but he just won't. "

"But Chloe, don't you think it's sort of gross?"

"The gay thing? Nah, it's OK. At least I know I don't stand a chance of competing there, at least without major surgery, or some heretofore unknown meteor rock mutation."

"No, the Lex thing. It's creepy. The gay thing I can pretty much handle. It's not like Clark's after me."

"Well, I can see why they're attracted to each other. I mean look at the two of them. Clark's about the most beautiful creature on the planet ... and Lex exudes charisma."

"I'll take your word for it, Chloe."

If he really wanted to be true to the movie ideal, it would be Lana, and not Chloe on that joyride. She had the same sort of goddess on a pedestal appeal that Mia Sara did. Chloe fit more into the role of Ferris' sister. Smart and cute and funny, and not a little annoyed at the attention she wasn't getting.

It probably wouldn't be much of a joyride anyway. They'd have to tool around in his mom's Taurus, or Clark's old truck. Not at all the same thing. And Clark would insist on going the speed limit. Hell, he'd find a way to help little old mutant ladies across every street along the way, lest they attack local boyscouts with glowing green canes.

Of course Pete knew that his life wasn't scripted. There was no grand director arranging things so he'd meet the woman of his dreams. Lana's dead parents weren't going to get up and wash off the pancake makeup, and Clark wasn't suddenly going to go back to normal -- whatever that meant. It was up to him to write his own life.

With that thought in mind, Pete walked into the Talon office, vowing that today, he'd make his presence known.


End file.
